Storms
by Birdwatched
Summary: Max has three irrational fears: The smell of hospitals, the idea of losing her family, and thunderstorms. When a particularly bad one hits, who will be there to calm her down? Fax, of course :


**So, I'm pretty sure you all thought I was dead or something. But, uh, jah, I'm not. Um, I'm not going to be continuing either of my other stories because I'm two years older and my style has changed dramatically, but I'm thinking of starting a series of oneshots. This is the first, set in the second book at Anne's house. Enjoy!**

MPOV

It was dark in my room, way past bedtime, but all the same, I was finding it hard to fall asleep. We were still at Anne's house in North Carolina and all had our separate rooms, so I was all alone without anyone there to make me pretend everything was okay. She was taking my place, and I didn't like it. I didn't feel like we were safe here. After all, when was the last time the Erasers _didn't_ find us where we were? Anne said that we were going to be okay here, but I still didn't feel like I could trust her.

On top of all that was school. It made me uncomfortable and nervous knowing that at any moment, someone could start to morph and the Flock and I would have to make a run for it. And then where would we be? The kids liked it here, and I didn't really want to give that up, no matter how uncomfortable it made me feel.

I rolled over onto my other side facing the window and watched rain beat down onto the glass with a soft tapping noise. Lightning flashed, and a few seconds later, loud thunder echoed and filled my ears. It was almost like the weather was reading my mind, I thought, and then hoped that Angel was sound asleep in the next room. I haven't told anyone, but I, the great Maximum Ride, am afraid of thunderstorms. If anyone were to find out, I would be mortified. Well, anyone aside from Fang.

I exhaled loudly and buried my face in my pillow.

Fang.

Suddenly there were two soft knocks at my door. "Max?"

I mumbled something along the lines of, "Come in."

Ever so quietly, Fang closed the door without the knob ever making a sound while it latched shut. His en-socked feet barely even made a noise as he walked over towards my bed and sat down beside me.

"What do you want?" I asked him, drawing the covers over my shoulders.

His weight shifted on the mattress and he shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, just to talk?"

"Talk about what?"

He paused and put a hand on my ankle which was covered in my blanket. "About you not liking it here. I'm getting vibes."

"Anne's taking my place. The kids are getting detached from me, getting bad grades – well, except for Angel –, getting in trouble…we just don't fit in here, Fang."

I could imagine him rolling his dark eyes in the dim of the room. I jumped a bit as lightning flashed again, lighting it up momentarily, and thunder crackled loudly across the sky. He sighed and lay down behind me on top of the covers, putting an arm around waist. "She's not taking your place."

"Yes, she is. I've been replaced by a skinny, blonde, smartarse woman who couldn't fight off a dog if she tried," I huffed, "and she _sucks_ at cooking."

He chuckled, putting his lips where my shoulder meets my neck, and exhaled. I sighed. "The kids still love you," he murmured, and I got the feeling he was talking about more than just the kids. "Because you're everything Anne's not."

I turned in his arms so I was facing him. "How?"

Fang drew me closer so that my head rested on his chest. I put my arms around him so I felt protected, like nobody could ever touch me as long as I was here. "You're strong," he said quietly, "You can beat anyone at chess, you don't burn Pop Tarts. Without you, the laundry would never get done, and nobody would ever remember fabric softener."

I laughed a little, feeling my face warm up a bit.

"Iggy and the Gasman haven't ever managed to blow up the house because of you. If you weren't here, Nudge wouldn't have someone to talk about big girl stuff with."

"That's true."

"You're the best at shoplifting, and the best at lying. You can kill a man in nine seconds flat. You can touch your tongue to your elbow," he laughed a little, "and you blush too easily."

"I do not!"

There was a pause where all I could hear was our breathing, and all I could see was Fang. Hesitantly, he brought his hand up to touch my cheek tenderly and stroke my cheekbone with his thumb just to see. "Yes," a smile played in his voice, "you do."

Color spread across my cheeks and I looked down. Durmmit.

"Max, no matter how good Anne may be at cooking, no matter if she likes to act like our mom, she's not a great leader like you are."

"Fang…"

"And she's not nearly as beautiful, Max."

My head snapped up and looked at him in the eyes. But he said no more, but just continued to look at my face, his eyes scanning my features. Nobody had ever called me beautiful before, not even Jeb, and he was the closest thing that I'd ever had to a father. Isn't that what fathers are supposed to tell their daughters to make them feel better?

I reached over and ran a hand through Fang's dark black hair, then stopped and held his cheek. "Can you stay? Tonight, I mean."

"I can stay as long as you need me here."

I lifted up my blanket so he could crawl under the covers with me. Then he put an arm around my waist again and kissed my neck, murmuring something so low I couldn't make it out. He inhaled deeply, and exhaled.

"Goodnight," I whispered, eyes drooping. The thunderstorm didn't seem so frightening anymore, because my best friend was here to keep me safe.

"Goonight, Max."

And he always would be.

* * *

**Alright, R&R, you know the drill. Sorry I haven't posted anything in years, literally. Don't expect me to be spitting out oneshots...I might not get around to it for a while. But, for now, review and tell me what you think!**

** -Birdwatched**


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